Spike-centric Analysis of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Episodes
Season 2
Episode 6 – Halloween
HALLOWEEN: Trick or treat? I’ll take one of each.
By Spring Summers – 29-Jan-03
Ethan Rayne -Daddy images- Gender bending – Angel & Spike: the two sides of The Slayer – Conclusion – Spicy extras for James Marsters’ fans
Though Spike and Giles give him a run for his money, Ethan Rayne is the central bad guy in this episode. Ethan Rayne: dapper Englishman, degenerate former chum of Giles, worshipper of Chaos. In "Halloween," Ethan engineers the transformation of Sunnydale residents into the characters represented by their costumes - characters so rigid and one-dimensional that, in keeping with the balancing laws of the Universe, chaos ensues.
Duality is the order of the day - its lack, the disorder. "The world that denies thee, thou inhabit. The peace that ignores thee, thou corrupt," intones Ethan at the beginning of his Chaos ritual.
But in the beginning of the episode, all seems right with the world. Buffy is kicking the stuffing out of a vampire in the aptly named "Pop’s Pumpkin Patch." She’s a young woman fighting in a man’s world. She battles a male vampire while another male vampire films her, doing the bidding of the pack’s (soon to be replaced!) alpha male, Spike. Though her fighting includes something as girly as throwing vegetables, it also incorporates traditional masculine techniques – a combo that always serves her well. Buffy wins.
References to fatherhood and patriarchy abound in this episode. Ethan takes a seemingly (god)fatherly interest in Buffy, helping her decide on a costume, and "making her an offer she can’t refuse" – his phrasing here redolent with whiffs of patriarchy and foreboding.
Spike watches Buffy on the TV screen and says, "Baby likes to play." Dru enters, making comments that suggest she is already sensing and worrying about the extent of Spike’s interest in The Slayer. But he reassures his ultra-feminine partner that he loves her "from eyeballs to entrails." He entreats Dru to confide her visions about Buffy’s upcoming weakness by saying "Come on, talk to Daddy." And later, in a laugh-out-loud and strangely sweet moment, Spike plays Vampire-Knows-Best to his passel of eagerly listening demons-tots as he enlightens them on the ways and joys of evil doing.
Another reminder of the patriarchal society comes from Willow: Buffy’s interest in Angel’s past and her idealized view of an 18th century noblewoman’s life cause Willow to reference "being able to vote" - reminding us how relatively recently women struck that blow against truly stifling patronization.
But Buffy’s not worried about the right to vote. She’s too deeply infatuated with the idea of being a girl whose "job" is being beautiful. Yet despite her daydreaming, the real Buffy gender-bends her world at every opportunity.
The most overt example of a sexes-switch takes place when Buffy saves Xander from Larry’s bullying. I feel for Buffy on this one; I understand her initial expectation of gratitude and why, when she finds she’s violated the guy-code, she commiserates with Willow on the fragility of boys. It reminds me of my time in engineering school in the early ‘80s, foolishly trying to help guys with math problems.
Also, some of Buffy’s phrasing demonstrates her unconscious comfort with a traditional male role. "Rough day at the office," she says to Angel, explaining her messy post-slayage hairdo. "Hi, honey, I’m home!" she gleefully shouts at Spike when she makes her comeback. "I had a really hard day," she says again to Angel at the end of the episode, plainly expecting him to provide comfort. They’re vintage, 1950’s, Ward Cleaver-type phrases, always said by the husband to the subordinate homemaker wife.
Note that these spousal-type exchanges are all directed to Angel and Spike, her lovers-to-be. In this episode, Angel sits at The Bronze while the band plays a song with this line: "Won’t tell you what I’m thinking." And Buffy tells Willow that Angel is "not exactly one to over-share." Later, he easily slips into the role of hero for Princess-Buffy, taking charge and literally carrying her as she swoons in fright. Contrast this with the lyrics we heard for Spike in "School Hard": "I’m one step away from crashing to my knees, I’m one step away from spilling my guts to you." And note that while Angel is saving the damsel, Spike is showing us he’s good with kids.
Angel exudes traditionally masculine characteristics; his maleness is as solid and congruous within him as the inside of a raw potato. His security in his masculinity allows him to sincerely tell Buffy at the end of the episode that he loves her strength and independence. By contrast, Spike is jello with mixed fruit. He tells Buffy he loves seeing her shaking and terrified. I’m guessing he needs the help to feel all manly. In fact, this episode is his last hurrah as anything resembling an alpha male; he’s heading for a wheelchair, a chip, and the most devastating thing of all to his fragile tough-guy construct: Buffy.
But conversely, it’s because of the notable existence of a feminine side that the phallically named Spike represents Buffy’s traditionally male half – her love of battle, her sexuality, her wild side and her strength. His feminine characteristics bring out The Slayer in Buffy. Angel, in direct contrast, is named for a higher, spiritual being. His masculinity allows Buffy’s feminine side full expression. He is her high ideals, her desire for love, her reserve, her sweetness and sensitivity.
Notice that at The Bronze, Angel symbolically removes Buffy’s tough side by plucking a piece of straw, left over from battle, from her hair. And she immediately wishes she could be a girl who concentrates on nail polish and facials. Later, Spike removes a symbol of Buffy’s soft side from her hair – her foofy wig. And she almost immediately remarks, as she joyfully kicks Spike’s bad-boy ass: "It’s good to be me!" It is a rare moment for Buffy, one in which she openly relishes her role as The Slayer and doesn’t attempt to deny how much she loves her job, her power, her "Spike."
And who is right on top of Buffy when she regains that strength and sass? Spike. Of course Spike. He IS her fight, her instincts, her basic functions. He’s the pleasure Buffy takes in the violence of her calling. The closer he gets to Buffy, the closer she gets to full Slayer mode.
And who is held at bay during this same scene, as we cut back and forth between it and Giles getting closer and closer to smashing the Janus statue and restoring Buffy’s toughness? Angel.
Buffy, like every girl, needs to understand, acknowledge, respect and embrace both sides of herself, i.e., to metaphorically marry both her undead honeys. Otherwise, she might end up running off with a Chaos Demon; just ask Dru. In this mid-Season 2 episode, Buffy is a long, long way from fully understanding her Angel or embracing her Spike, and the journey toward that necessary assimilation will be a chaotic one indeed.
The reality of, and the need for, duality are symbolized by the two-faced Janus statue, and are seen over and over: Spike is shown with his face in the half-light as he acts the compassionate lover with Dru while he gleefully plans The Slayer’s death. Giles is also in half-light as he claims domestication, yet viciously beats Ethan, reverting back to "Ripper" with astonishing ease – and, it’s important to note, saving the day while doing so. All the other characters, except for the ever-consistent Cordelia, show us clearly separate sides of themselves in this episode.
As they mature, human beings must integrate the various facets of their personalities into a cohesive whole in order to live in this world with any semblance of order and peace. They need the masculine & the feminine, the dark & the light, the strength & the vulnerability, the chunky & the creamy – Oh, no. Sorry. That’s peanut butter.
Spicy extras for James Marsters’ fans
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